


Stupid Cupid

by BluebeardsWife



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dark Setting, Eventual Happy Ending, Fantasy AU, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Humor, M/M, Vampires, more or less direct allusions to violence, nothing too gory but there will be blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:31:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluebeardsWife/pseuds/BluebeardsWife
Summary: When Eros, the Greek god of love, messes with the wrong Olympian, he is banished to live in the human realm under the guise of Isak Valtersen. With nothing but contempt for mortals, he plots his escape, until one day he encounters a mysterious stranger. Luckily, Even Bech Næsheim is not a mortal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never really written anything like this before, and I only have a rough outline for the plot, so the updates on this will likely be slow. I'm really curious to see how it goes over with you all, though.

Being human was, above all, boring.

The casual monotony of daily life, the constant repetition of pointless rituals, the rehearsed interactions void of meaning - all impossible to escape among mortals. So Isak, too, had fallen prey to the routine: wake up, urinate, brush teeth, drink coffee, eat, work, sleep, wake up. Even his nightly quest for the perfect view from above had lost its luster. He scanned the sprawling city beneath him from his perch high up on the roof of an apartment building. Looking down at the grimy streets, still gleaming from the rainfall earlier in the day, he felt entirely hopeless. There was no comparison. And all the while, the majestic view from Olympus that he had spent eons enjoying was rapidly fading from his memory like a childish fantasy.

Some nights he got angry at the tiny cars, all lined up in perfect rows, moving in a rigid pattern as though guided by an invisible force, always obeying, obeying, obeying. The core of the mortal world was scaffolded on the tedious idea of mindless cooperation with others for the sake of progress. By progress, they really meant a naive hope for a meaningful future. But there was no meaning in the human realm. No purpose. And no fun.

Isak had hoped that Aphrodite would change her mind once she cooled off. Or maybe that a friend or the other Erotes would step in on his behalf. But he had had no contact with home for years now. He was stuck in this mortal plane, on his own, forever. Unless...

He huffed angrily at nothing in particular, standing up and slowly climbing down the rickety fire-escape steps.

_Love_.

He was irate about it all. The last glimpse he had gotten of Mount Olympus was from the High Courts. And their last words were forever etched in his brain.

"You will no longer be permitted to wield the weapon of true love until you yourself have experienced it," the verdict had come, and before he had had time to protest, he found himself trapped in the man-made metropolis of Merak, powerless and alone. No longer Eros, the God of Love, but Isak Valtersen, boring science guy.

The science was a nice touch, he supposed. The humans, convinced that they could gain control over their world somehow, had deconstructed it, classified it, written down laws. Charts, graphs, and elaborate labels were their lifeblood. Science, they thought, would give them answers. As if a single whim of Zeus' couldn't turn it all to shreds. Nonetheless, some of their discoveries were intriguing. They could pinpoint the exact particles that were produced or activated when one experienced love. So perhaps there was still hope there. How were the Olympians to differentiate between true love and chemically induced love? To be fair, he was relying largely on their ignorance of all things mortal, but that was usually a safe bet. The downside to this plan, however, was that he had had to work his way up to a position within the arbitrary structures of human society where he could have access to the necessary materials and teach himself how to use them.

Boring didn't even begin to describe it. 

 

* * *

 

"You're staying late again? You do know that there are more fun things to do out there, right?"

Isak looked up from the notes he had been poring over. The new girl stood by the doorway, mousy brown hair held up haphazardly with a million bobby pins, smiling shyly in his direction. Her threadbare green raincoat hung loosely on her small frame, much as it would on a clothes-hanger.

"I like working," Isak shrugged, before turning back to the papers in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the new girl leave the lab, and shortly thereafter heard the elevator doors closing behind her with a dull WHOOP. He had made sure not to stay late every night so as not to arouse suspicion. But he had gotten no closer to figuring out how to simulate love in himself, and he was starting to lose hope.

It must have been 2am before he finally gave up for the night. He gathered his papers and shoved them roughly into his brown backpack. What if he never found a way? Was he stuck here like Sisyphus, repeating the same pointless actions day after day? He glanced out of the large panel window of the lab, but water was pouring in streams down the panes, blurring the city behind it. Rain again. How exciting.

*THUMP*

*CRASH*

"Shit!"

The ruckus had come from the restricted compounds depository down the hall, to which even he didn't have direct access. Eyes narrowed, he walked quietly down the empty hall. The building was very well secured, considering the kind of materials it contained, so it seemed unlikely that someone could have just broken in. But surely, he would have heard an employee enter. And why would they come in at 2am on a Friday night? Fridays were practically sacred to mortals, he knew that much.

He held his breath when he reached the heavy metal door, which seemed to have been torn open with sheer force, and slowly peered into the room. Through the darkness, he could make out the fuzzy outlines of the shelves that lined the walls, overflowing with neatly stacked bottles, jars, and beakers, but he could neither see nor sense a human presence.

A sudden bolt of lighting, followed shortly by the rumble of thunder, illuminated the space momentarily, and Isak gasped and stepped back, almost falling over, at the sight of a slender figure that had been standing directly in front of him. As the stranger walked slowly out into the hall, the light coming from Isak's lab revealed a handsome man in his twenties, with disheveled amber hair and piercing blue eyes. For a moment, Isak just stared, mesmerized. The man was tall, taller than him, and dressed in simple, modern clothes. The upturned collar of his denim jacket accentuated his long neck, and a small smile played on his plump limps. He had the appearance of an impish boy, who had been caught stealing toys, but Isak knew better. Or, at the very least, he knew that he wasn't in the presence of a mortal.

 


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you?" the words escaped Isak's lips in a hoarse whisper.

The stranger stepped forward, his playful smile making his eyes crinkle. 

"Aquarius, Libra rising," he said with a small wiggle of his eyebrows. "You?" 

His tone was so casually earnest that, for a moment, Isak just stared at him, frozen, wondering if he had somehow stumbled into an alternate universe. The stranger glanced quickly around the hall, before motioning to Isak to follow him.

"C'mon," he said as he started walking _away_ from the elevator and stairwell that led downstairs and, hence, outside. "Police are on their way. We should get out before they catch us."

" _We_?" Isak exclaimed but followed nonetheless. "I work here. I didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh, right, I'm sure the nice police officers will believe that you were just working in the middle of Friday night while, uh, a mysterious stranger," he said with a flourish, "incidentally robbed a storeroom of restricted chemicals on the same floor."

Isak sputtered for a moment, unable to form a coherent thought. Had the human realm descended into chaos?

"You can't just take that stuff," he protested when they reached the end of the hallway. "It's dangerous."

"Who's gonna stop me?" The stranger easily pushed open the window at the end of the hallway.

Isak looked closer at the now cracked iron bar that had held the window safely - and permanently - shut just a moment ago. Who the hell was this guy? For some reason, he thought of Epimetheus, who had agreed to marry the beautiful Pandora, knowing full well what her dowry box contained. Perhaps it was best left unopened.

"You comin'?" Isak heard the now familiar voice from outside, and popping his head out the window, he saw the stranger's lean figure edging along the low ledge that spanned the entire wall.

"Don't look down," he advised when Isak threw one leg over the windowsill, so, naturally, Isak looked straight down at the street beneath him and immediately felt panic rise up in his chest. From this angle, the view from a high-rise was not as dull as it had seemed the night before. The rain had subsided somewhat, but a soft spray of cold water showered his face the moment he stepped out onto the ledge, and his white T-shirt was starting to stick to his already bristling skin. Below him, lights of speeding cars rhythmically disrupted the fiery reflections of street lights on wet pavement. Edging toward the corner where the stranger was climbing down a fire escape, Isak couldn't get the thought of just letting go and jumping to his death out of his head. He started feeling nauseous.

Upon reaching the relative safety of the fire escape, he climbed down as quickly as he could, the worn soles of his shoes at times sliding across the slippery steel grates below him and making his stomach lurch. When he finally reached the man who had somehow turned him into an unwitting accomplice, Isak saw him hop onto the bottom rung of the final ladder, sliding downwards along with it. He held the ladder in place as Isak climbed down, feeling a whole new affinity for the solid pull of the ground.

They ran down a few back alleys before Isak stopped to catch his breath. This had all seemed too easy. The lab was supposedly protected with highest security measures. So how come it had just been successfully robbed by what looked like a 20-some year old unarmed guy wearing skinny jeans? Isak looked up to see the stranger watching him.

"Who are you?" Isak rephrased his original question.

"Even," the answer came with an outstretched hand, as though this was the most natural introduction in the world.

"Isak," Isak shook his hand. "So... you wanna tell me what this is all about?"

Even pursed his lips, apparently considering it for a moment before responding.

"I live right up there," he pointed to what looked like one of those old warehouses that had been re-purposed into living spaces to meet the rising demands of city housing. "Join me."

 

* * *

 

Isak watched quietly as Even unlocked an iron padlock and entered a grimy elevator that smelled vaguely of fish. They rose up to the top floor of the building (which was, to Isak's relief, not as high up as his lab), in this shaky, steel container, with its peeling paint and graffitied walls, cast intermittently into total darkness as they traversed the spaces between the stories of the warehouse. Finally, the elevator came to an abrupt stop, and Even opened its jangling steel grate to reveal an enormous room with floor-to-ceiling windows lining an entire wall.

Stepping out of the steel trap of the elevator and into the open space of the loft felt like crossing over into a completely new world. There didn't seem to be an overhead light or any lamps, but since the tall windows did not have curtains, everything was illuminated by the cool luminescence of the moonlight. You could probably fit two of Isak's apartment into this one chamber, which was segmented only partially with several simple, wooden shelves and a few large pieces of heavy furniture. The hardwood floors were clearly old, but clean. They were bare except for one soft, circular rug positioned neatly in front of an unmade bed - or rather, a box-spring topped with a mattress. In contrast to the sleek purposefulness of the sparse furniture around it, the bed seemed to have been shoved haphazardly against the wall without a thought. Two of the windowless walls were decorated with various old movie posters and simple but colorful art prints that Isak didn't recognize. The fourth wall, the furthest from the bed, was painted white, and in front of it stood what looked like one of those old-timey film projectors that Isak only recognized from one of the few movies he'd watched during his time in this realm.

"Beer?" Even's voice snapped Isak back into the moment. He was standing in front of a small refrigerator, holding out a bottle in Isak's direction. The warm light from the open fridge gave Even's figure a soft glow that made him look otherworldly - which Isak was pretty sure he was anyway.

"Yeah," Isak said, taking the cold beer in his hand. "Thanks.

"You're shivering," Even noticed. He rushed over to a large dresser by the bed and pulled out an oversized blue sweatshirt.

"I'm fine," Isak lied, trying to keep his body from visibly shaking in his soaking wet shirt.

Even threw the sweatshirt at him anyway, and Isak put it on. It smelled like fresh linen.

 

One by one, Even set out the bottles and jars he had stolen onto a narrow table by a window.

"They're for me," he said, answering the unspoken question, as Isak walked up to the table. He looked over at Isak's incredulous expression and laughed. "Really!"

Isak raised a questioning eyebrow.

"It's uh..." Even turned back to his bottles, "I have an, uh, a medical... condition, of sorts." He looked back up, examining Isak's face for a response. "One doctors can't treat," he added softly. "So I do it myself."

It was obvious that this wasn't the entire truth, but Isak decided to accept it for now. If nothing else, this had been the most interesting night he had had in ten years on earth. He took a swig of his beer and felt the icy liquid soothe his parched throat.

"You're welcome to stay the night." Even was leaning against the window sill now. "It's late... and wet. There's plenty of room."

Isak nodded.

He spent the night on Even's surprisingly comfortable sofa, his mind reeling with the night's events.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Isak awoke to the distinct smell of burning plants. He sat up on the sofa and looked around. It took him a moment to remember where he was. Even's loft looked even bigger with the soft sunlight pouring in through every window. The difference from Isak's cramped studio was astounding. Standing up, he looked around behind the large shelf that formed a makeshift wall separating the sofa area (living room, maybe?) from the rest of the loft. Even was standing in the far corner, his back turned to Isak. A hazy column of silvery smoke rose from above his hands. _Was he burning incense?_

Isak approached him slowly, and though he had made no sound, Even seemed to instantly know he was there.

"Morning," he said cheerfully, without turning around.

"Hi," Isak replied, alarmed by how high-pitched and timid the word sounded coming from his mouth.

He had been all sorts of miserable here on the mortal plane, but he had never been self-conscious or insecure. He knew himself to be above mortals, even if he was stuck with them. But there he was, brushing nervous fingers through his hair and rushing to straighten the shirt he had slept in before Even looked over at him. How odd that he cared - he didn't even know what Even was. Probably a lower being or the son of a mortal and a god. It didn't matter. Impressing him wasn't Isak's goal. All he wanted to do was find out what exactly he had gotten himself into the night before and be on his way.

"Did you sleep okay?" Even asked.

Human interactions were always padded with these pointless questions, whose answers nobody cared about. The equally pointless replies were seldom truthful and usually just parroted stock phrases. Isak tended to ignore them, which had earned him a bit of a reputation as a jerk at work. Even turned to face him with an earnest look on his face, eyebrows slightly raised and accentuated by a stray lock of honey colored hair that bounced lightly on his forehead.

"Yeah," Isak said. "Yeah, I slept great. Thanks."

With a small smile Even turned back to whatever he was doing, and Isak felt flustered and exposed by what should have been an ordinary, meaningless interaction.

"Uhm," he took the tiniest step forward. "What are you doing? Is that the stuff you stole from the lab?"

Next to several empty beakers stood a large jar filled halfway with a murky, greenish liquid. Above it, Even held three thorny springs that were burning on one end. The ashes cascaded like snowflakes into the liquid in the jar, causing a series of silvery sparks.

"Burning hawthorn," he said simply.

Isak laughed. "Okay, why?"

"I told you, I make my own medicine."

"Okay... but," Isak scoffed, "uhh... adding random ashes to a compound of potent chemicals doesn't seem very medicinal."

"It's not random," Even said, setting down what had remained of the sprigs and picking up a small piece of scarlet thread. He wrapped it around a clove of garlic before dropping it into the mixture. "It's magic."

Isak laughed in disbelief. "Magic? You're not serious?"

Finally, Even gave him his full attention. "Humans tend to go one way or the other," he said. "They either believe in magic or in science. The truth is," Even lifted the jar to eye-level, "they work best in tandem."

The contents of the jar had transformed into a viscous but luminescent fluid the color of lava. Even screwed on the lid of the jar and placed it in the refrigerator before turning back at Isak with a small sigh.

"Would you rather I pretend we're just like everyone else?" he asked.

Isak shook his head. "No, I just didn't know magic was possible here."

"Here?"

He had said too much. If magic was possible here without the interference of Olympians, then Even could be just about anything. And chances were there were others. Isak had spent all this time learning about science, only to find that he had completely missed that the mortal realm had an underworld all its own.

Even looked down at his feet for a moment before speaking with a soft grin.

"Maybe we can start with easier questions. Do you like movies?"

 

* * *

 

"Nah, Brad Pitt is hot, but I'm so not into the brooding," Even said before taking a hit from a joint he had somehow convinced Isak to smoke with him.

They were sitting on the floor between the sofa and the white wall that Even used as a movie screen. "And fuck Tom Cruise." He passed the joint over to Isak, who laughed.

"What?! Lestat was the best character."

"He's fun, but..." Even cringed slightly and fell silent.

Isak coughed, unaccustomed to filling his lungs with smoke.

"How do you even get those?" he asked after a while, motioning toward a neat pile of round canisters that contained reels of celluloid film. "I mean," he chuckled, "do they sell them at the Shop&Save or something?"

"They're worth the trouble of acquiring," Even said vaguely. "I did just get some new Blu-Rays, though, if you prefer digital."

He stood up, running his eyes across the shelves on the side that were lined from top to bottom with DVD cases. Isak didn't mind watching a movie to pass the time, but it never even occurred to him that this was something a person could be passionate about. Even clearly was.

"Have you seen _Let the Right One In_?" Even turned to Isak, holding a disc in his hand.

His eyes widened as Isak shook his head. "If we're talking vampires," he said, " _this_ is the movie to watch."

"Okay," Isak shrugged with a smile. His weekends usually dragged with boredom and despair. This was a bit more pleasant.

He observed Even who stood on the tips of his toes as he stretched to reach the projector hanging from the ceiling.

"I lost the remote," he explained, and his shirt rose with his arms, momentarily exposing his midriff, pale skin accentuating already prominent hip bones, as a barely visible trail of sparse, blond hair plunged from his navel down into his jeans. Isak scratched the tip of his nose and willed himself to look elsewhere. The dim light of the projector slowly grew into a brilliant range of colors spreading across the white wall. Even sat next to him, his back against the sofa, and Isak turned his attention to the movie.

 

* * *

 

"Well, that was... weird," Isak said after the credits started to roll.

"You didn't like it?" Even sounded disappointed.

"No, I did, it's just," Isak thought for a moment. "I don't know, I didn't expect it to be so... romantic."

"It's not romantic," Even said tersely.

"No? You think they're gonna break up as soon as she finds a prettier boy?"

It at least got a small chuckle out of Even.

"No, she'll just..." he frowned a little, "she'll watch him get old and weak." He paused with a sigh. "And then she'll find a new companion, and kill Oskar in cold blood."

"Yeah, but," Isak thought for a moment. "He knows what he's getting himself into. It's his choice. Isn't that what love is all about?"

 _Why the fuck was he advocating in favor of love?_ Isak frowned. He knew how it always ended.

"If she loved him, she wouldn't let him," Even said as he stood up and walked over to the window. The rain had finally stopped.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 1: Erato**

"Are... are you leaving early?" The new girl (Jess?) asked as Isak put on his coat.

"Yeah," he narrowed his eyes. "Is that a problem?"

"No, I've just never seen you leave early," she replied. "Or, I've never seen you leave at all. For all I know, you live here."

"I'll have you know, Jessica," Isak said with feigned sincerity, "that I have a whole life outside of work."

She laughed. "Since when?"

Isak chuckled and headed toward the door.

"You know you didn't even learn my name until last week," she said as he passed her, and he stopped suddenly.

"You were new," he protested.

"Oh?" she responded with a one-sided smile. "For seven months? Is that how long it takes for you to learn a name?"

Isak scoffed. But she was right. He hadn't realized it had been that long. He just didn't care about people. Or their names.

"Sorry?" he said tentatively, and she laughed.

"I'm not asking for an apology, dummy. I just mean... you've been much more pleasant to work with the past few weeks, and... whatever is causing this shift," she widened her eyes and shrugged, "I'm liking it."

With a forced smile and a nod, Isak turned and walked out of the lab. It was true that he had become more talkative lately. Even had made fun of him for not knowing anything about his coworkers, so he made an effort, and a few weeks later, it became easy. Talking to people, it turned out, made the time pass faster and more pleasantly. And, since he had been spending his weekends with Even, he actually had things to talk about.

He had made the mistake of complaining to Even that life was incredibly boring, and was thereafter subjected to every earthly pleasure Even could think of. They drove down to the coast and watched the ocean; they visited old arcade parlors; they downed fancy cocktails and danced the night away; they watched movies - in IMAX 3D; they picked a fight or two, which ended abruptly the moment Even got involved; jumped into piles of leaves; even visited an archery club (Isak's favorite since this was something he was better at than Even); and a myriad other stupid, pointless acts, the best part of which was always just Even. 

As he rushed through the grimy back alleys of downtown, lost in thought, he suddenly heard footsteps behind him. When he turned to look, however, there was no one there. He kept walking, and the footsteps returned. Someone was following him.

At the next corner, Isak whipped around as quickly as he could, but the alley was, once again, deserted. It was then that he heard a familiar giggle behind him. He turned back again, coming face to face with a stunning dark-skinned woman, wearing nothing but a crimson silk stole, draped loosely around her chest and thighs, and fluttering slightly in a non-existent breeze. A mischievous smile played on her plump lips as she met Isak's gaze.

" _Erato_?" Isak breathed out in shock.

"Shhhh," she pressed her finger to her lips and cast a quick look around them, making sure they were alone. "I can only stay a moment."

"Wha- how..." Isak sputtered. He hadn't seen anyone from home in what seemed like forever, and the muses had always been a little too beautiful to handle.

A golden haze seemed to emanate from Erato's lips as she spoke.

"I've heard tales of your imminent homecoming," she said melodiously.

"I.. you have?" Isak vaguely registered a sense of panic floating through him.

"Has love's flame licked the love-god's loins?"

"What?" Isak suddenly understood what the phrase "clutch you pearls" meant, for had he been wearing any, he would have been gripping them like his life depended on it.

Erato narrowed her eyes and licked her lips, which stretched into a wide grin.

"Just as I thought," she said with another giggle.

Eros knew that the muses always talked like this. And Eros had never had a problem with it. But for some reason, Isak Valtersen felt completely scandalized. What was she even implying?

A few blocks away, someone started yelling drunkenly, and Erato's face hardened.

"I must go, but heed my warning," she spoke in a rushed whisper. "Among three options, only one will make you happy. Choose wisely."

She leaned in, kissing Isak's lips softly, and disappeared, leaving nothing behind her but the subtle scent of roses.

 

* * *

 

**Part 2: Kiss**

 

"Keep your eyes closed!"

"How the fuck am I supposed to climb this ladder without looking!?" Isak was as flustered as he was irritated.

"Okay, okay, just... look down, okay? Look at your feet."

Was this what he had left work early for? A _surprise_ on the fucking roof of Even's apartment? They weren't children! Isak didn't like not knowing what happens next. He was suspicious of Even's gleeful tone, unable to tell if it was derision or joy. Still, he looked down at his feet obediently as he waited for Even to climb up behind him.

"This way," Even said, putting his arm around Isak's shoulder and hiding the view in front of him with his other hand.

"Seriously?" Isak grumbled but let himself be steered to wherever it was that Even had in mind.

Finally they stopped, and the brisk wind intensified its lashing of Isak's face. They must be at the edge of the roof, he concluded. He knew he shouldn't be so trusting... He still didn't even know what Even was. But there was something about his presence that always seemed to put him at ease.

Even took his hand down, revealing a view of the city at dusk, and Isak smiled in spite of himself. It was certainly a remarkable view, but the most charming part of it was Even's excitement about it. And his hand that was still touching Isak's shoulder. It had gotten quite chilly, so isak scooted a bit closer for warmth.

"Ok, look!" Even whispered into his ear, tugging his shoulder slightly to the left and pointing at an enormous glass skyscraper that marked the very center of downtown.

Isak could feel Even's breath on his cheek as he followed his finger. At first he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking for, but as the sun gradually descended behind the triangular peak atop the skyscraper, the glass refracted its rays in a burst of color that seemed to explode across the gray buildings below, bathing them in an iridescent fiery haze. Each wet rooftop, each darkened window, and every beam of steel in the entire city beneath them seemed to blush with a red-rouge glow, and the colors cascaded, transforming seamlessly into a sea of orange. The swirl of blue and gold that was the sky slowly faded into gray, leaving behind the shadow of a sun-bruised cityscape.

Isak exhaled in awe. He turned his head slightly to look at Even, whose hand was still lightly resting on his shoulder, as the final glimmer of the sunset sparked like embers in his eyes. Even let his hand slide lightly down Isak's back as he looked at him, grinning triumphantly, eyebrows raised.

"What'd you think?" he asked, his voice dropping abruptly on the last word, just as his eyes landed on Isak's mouth and his face softened.

There was nothing to it. It required no thought or action on Isak's part. His body leaned towards Even as though pulled by an invisible force, and their lips brushed against each other tenderly. Slowly raising his gaze, Isak could see every small freckle on Even's cheek. His chest bursting with a yearning of such intensity he wouldn't have thought it possible - or survivable - Isak parted his lips slightly and pressed them to Even's.

Even responded instantly, urgently, pulling Isak close with one hand and burying the fingers of the other in his hair. The more they kissed, the more Isak wanted him, forgetting everything except the taste of Even's tongue and the warmth of his body pressed against his own. With a sudden gasp, Even pulled back, placing a firm hand on Isak's chest, pushing him away.

"You need to go," he said in a low whisper, breathing heavily and looking away.

Isak's stomach lurched, as though the building had disappeared from under him and sent him hurtling to the ground. He didn't move. Even turned slowly to look at him. His eyes were no longer blue but a red so deep it almost looked black.

"I said go," Even spoke in a low growl that sent ice-cold shivers down Isak's spine. "Go! Now!"

The words had come out with such force that Isak backed away in terror. He turned and ran to the propped up window, stumbling down the ladder, into the elevator, and out onto the street as fast as his legs could carry him. By the time he reached his studio, his hair was soaked with sweat and his eyes swollen with tears. What the fuck had just happened?

 

* * *

 

**Part 3: Blood**

_There was blood everywhere. On Even's skin, in his hair, under his fingernails. A dark red droplet fell from his eyelashes into the sink as he learned over it, trying to will himself to look into the mirror. He could still taste it though he had rinsed his mouth again and again. The bitter aftertaste of copper, but liquid, thick, and warm._

_He recalled the exhilaration that had seeped through him as the blood ran down his throat, feeling its vibrant energy, the rush of ecstasy, extending all the way to his tingling fingertips. And then the view of her body, unseeing eyes staring at him. He fell to the ground, retching, his body convulsing on the bathroom floor in rhythmic spasms of revulsion._

Even woke up in twisted sheets, his fingers aching from digging into the palms of his hands. It was always the same dream. Down to the last detail. Except it wasn't a dream. A memory.

He disentangled himself from the sweat-soaked sheets and sat on the ground by his bed. It had been years, maybe decades, since it last resurfaced like this. It was always there, of course, in the back of his mind, haunting his waking hours like a heavy mist around his feet. But he hadn't quite felt its clutches tighten around his mind, clawing at his soul.

He shouldn't have kissed Isak. He knew that. He never should have befriended him in the first place. Isolation was the only safe option. It had been selfish of him to long for company. To allow himself to assuage the loneliness. He didn't deserve the respite.

When it first happened, shortly after his parents' death, he had thrown himself into his faith, pleading for an explanation, a cure, a do-over. He received no response. God had abandoned him. He had turned to the darkness next, deciding to take his own life. If his soul had to suffer for all eternity, it was better to leave quickly, before he had torn apart another life, another future. But the cruel irony of the universe proved worse than any scornful God or torturous devil. No matter what he tried - razors, knives, pills, ropes, crosses, exorcism, starvation and even a wooden stake through the heart - there was no way out. His wounds always healed in a matter of minutes.

He had found no heaven nor hell, their comforting fantasy replaced by an infinite void, a meaningless existence for nothing, an unending exercise in self-control. The pain dulled over time. He was even able to enjoy some things as the years went by. The nightmares didn't stop until he had removed himself completely from everyone he had ever cared about. He knew it had been for the best. They were all long gone now anyway.

He only needed to stay involved enough with people to secure a steady supply of his serum, the chemical muzzle that his father had somehow concocted when Even was still a child - before he had had a chance to fatally harm anyone. The problem with parents, of course, is that they always intend to live long enough to teach their sons what they need to know when they're old enough to know it. But that's not how this story went.

Even looked out the window into the cloudy sky. It was raining again. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever! I should be able to update more regularly after this. Thanks for reading!

Isak spent the weekend in bed and called in sick to work on Monday. He had stopped checking his phone for an explanation from Even. Or some sign that he still cared. It clearly wasn't coming. Outside, the seemingly unending rain was turning into sleet, as the sun tried and failed to break through the thick, gray clouds.

Eros may have been the god of love. Isak, apparently, was the god of idiots. If this was love, then the world was better off without him in it. He had always viewed love as a playful event, a meeting of souls with an unpredictable ending, often amusing for the bystanders. No wonder Aphrodite had been so pissed at him. Is this how others had felt every time his arrow imperceptibly pierced their hearts? Why did mortals fear Hades, the harbinger of death, when love, love was the true Tartarus and Eros its guardian?

"Oh c'mon! I wouldn't go that far," a playful voice came from his window, startling Isak half out of his wits.

"Holy fucking shit, Erato!" Isak scrambled to recover from having almost fallen off the bed in shock.

She smiled at him innocently from her perch on his windowsill. She sat sideways inside the deep window frame, with her back against one wall, knees pulled up almost to her chest, and her feet pressing lightly against the wall on the other side of the window.

"Don't _do_ that!" Isak stood up and started pacing around the room.

Was she listening in on his thoughts? _Could_ she do that? _Fucking muses_. He came to a stop, turning to face her.

"What- What exactly do you mean you wouldn't go that far?"

"I mean," she said, pausing to blow hot breath on the cold windowpane, "if you had the chance to remove those feelings and return home, never having cared for the dhampir, would you take it?"

She had traced a small heart with her finger in the small wet splotch she had created on the glass.

"Dhampir?" Isak asked, unable to take his eyes off the already fading heart on the window.

"Would you?" she asked without acknowledging his question.

After a brief pause, Isak seemed to finally find his footing again. "Yes," he said firmly. "Of course I would."

Erato's eyebrows shot up as she formed a small "o" with her lips. "Well, then I guess I shouldn't have risked getting caught just to warn you."

When he had first re-encountered Erato just a few days ago, he was so excited to see a familiar face that he had forgotten how frustrating talking to her could be. _Muse of lyric poetry my ass_ , he thought to himself but retained his outwardly composure as best he could.

"Warn me of what?"

"Oh it doesn't matter," she shrugged. "I didn't realize it would be a happy surprise."

She hopped down from the window sill, adjusted her vibrant, olive green robes, and with a quick wave of her fingers, disappeared.

"Fuck!" Isak breathed out. He should have known this was coming, but he hadn't quite allowed himself to accept the fact that he was in love yet. As of right now, denial was no longer an option.

 

 

It was as though he was literally split in two. One Isak - the stronger Isak, the wiser Isak, the Isak that wanted to be happy - knew that the better choice was to simply go home and leave this stupid bullshit behind. The other one, however - the powerless fledgling who was drowning in his own emotions --

Clumsily slipping on his shoes as he approached the door, Isak grabbed his jacket and ran outside. He needed time to think. A safe space. A place where the deities couldn't find him. _Think_!  He rushed down familiar alleyways, the cold rain dousing his hair completely before he had even figured out where he was going.

Finally, it dawned on him - magic. He needed magic to hide his presence. That was the only thing he knew worked on the Olympians. Sometimes, anyway... He looked around, as though a magic shop would _magically_ appear in front of him just as he needed it, but was faced with nothing but concrete walls and puddles of water.

The word "dhampir" popped into his head. He knew it was somehow connected to vampire lore in the human realm, but not much more than that. Was that what Even was? There was no one else Erato could have been referencing. His first weekend with Even, they had watched three vampire movies in a row - all tragic in their own way. The garlic. The hawthorn. The magic. The puzzle of Even was finally coming together, though pieces were still missing.

_The magic_! He had accompanied Even once to the shop where he got his supplies. Isak hadn't gone in, preferring to wait outside. Even didn't push, but Isak made sure to explain that he just wasn't interested in that nonsense. The real reason, however, wasn't clear even to him. He remembered the feeling of dread and doom that grew within him as they had approached the shop - the truth was that he had been too scared to enter.

And yet the stupid part of him that was rabidly hoarding and refusing to give up a single memory of Even laughing, of the warmth of his touch or the sound of his voice - that Isak had suddenly taken charge and found himself running desperately toward the shop.

 

 

 

By the time he reached the inconspicuous building, the rain had subsided into a soft sprinkle. The glow of the setting sun burst through gaps in the clouds, making solid objects and walls appear hazy and frail, like they might dissolve at any moment. Isak didn't know why the shop scared him so much. It was possible that the magic inside was malevolent. And if Even was a vampiric being, it made sense that it wouldn't bother him. With a deep breath, Isak pushed open the heavy wooden door, and a tinny chime announced his presence from above him, where a small golden bell was disturbed whenever the door was opened.

The shop was poorly lit and felt more like someone's living room than a place of business. The dark floors were covered with large and intricate Persian rugs that muffled his footsteps, and several small, round tables were scattered throughout the expansive room (it had looked much smaller from the outside), each accompanied by two simple armchairs. Between them, rows of shelves held dusty books, jars filled with unknown substances, crystals, and several random objects - like teapots and soccer balls - that didn't seem to belong there.

"Huh," a low, husky voice came from behind one of the shelves. "I was wrong about you. I didn't think you'd come."

Isak stepped around the shelf to find a slender woman sitting at one of the round tables, pouring a deck of Tarot cards smoothly from one hand to the other. She appeared young, though her hair was a dull gray and her complexion ashen. Her eyes also seemed a pale and translucent shade of gray -- the only color on her face came from her glistening, wine-stained lips. Her presence was unnerving. Although he could clearly see her solid form sitting in the chair, Isak felt as though she was made of smoke, as though if he reached out to touch her, his hand would poke straight through.

"I can't hide you, you know," she said without looking up.

"Wh- how did you-- did Even tell you about me?"

"Even?" she chuckled, finally looking over at Isak. "Oh no, he'd never put you in danger like that. He's way too sentimental for someone born outside of His domain. Gods' rejects, I call them. But the mortal realm doesn't differentiate."

"What do you mean put me in danger? Am I in danger here?" Isak was getting real sick of feeling like he was the only one unaware of some big cosmic secret.

"Well," she leaned back, draping one arm across the back of her chair. "It depends on how you look at it, I suppose. _I_ don't wish you any harm, if that's what you mean."

"What danger then?"

"Oh dear child," she said condescendingly - Isak was thousands of years older than she. _Fuck her_.

Seemingly unaware of the effect of her words, she continued in the same tone: "Don't you know your gods do not take kindly to consorting with mine? And they're notoriously creative punishers." She laughed, "I mean, look at you. A mighty love god in a meager mortal's body. No longer commander of love but its hapless, pathetic victim. What a tragedy, really."

It took all of Isak's self-control to remain calm. If he couldn't get protection, maybe he could at least get some answers.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Jinnie," she said plainly. "I'm the owner of this establishment, which you have chosen to patronize. How can I help you?"

"You already said you can't," Isak replied with an exasperated chuckle.

"True, I can't keep you from them. But they're not coming for you until sunset tomorrow anyway. A lot can happen in one night and one day." She looked at him, head cocked to the side, as though appraising him. "But why is it that you run from your own? Haven't you wanted to go home all this time?"

"I just need some time to think," he said tersely.

"Now _that_ I can help you with." She gestured toward the chair across the table from her, "sit."

Isak hesitated for a moment before doing as told. He didn't understand shit right now. Might as well accept whatever help he's offered. 

With one hand, Jinnie spread the entire deck of large cards across the table in a perfect semicircle.

"Pick three," she instructed, and Isak obeyed.

She collected the rest of the deck, leaving only the three chosen cards face-down on the table.

"This is the heart of your problem," she said as she flipped the card on the left over.

 

>  

"Two of Swords," she said simply. "You have a decision to make. You don' trust yourself to make it. It's almost like you're at war with yourself... and that's not a war you can win."

Her hand hovered over the middle card for a moment. "This is what's in front of you," she turned it to reveal The Lovers.

 

>  

"Hm, yes, we already knew that," she muttered before raising her eyes to Isak. "You are at a crossroads. One path you know to be right. You know where it leads. It is what you've wanted all along. The other offers temptation, the potential for great passion. But it's dark and treacherous." Her finger slid to the lower right corner of the card, where a snake was biting the leg of one of the lovers. "You don't know if you can trust it."

Though shaken, Isak scoffed a little. "You seem to have already known all that before I came in. Are the cards just for show?"

She smiled gently, then furrowed her brow. "If you can't trust yourself, Isak, how can you trust anyone else?"

Holding his gaze with her own, Jinnie reached down and revealed the final card. Without looking at it, she explained, " _This_ is the action you need to take to get what you want."

Isak looked down at an image of a tall tower. It was crumbling and burning as people flung themselves out of its collapsing rubble, suspended forever in the free-fall towards their death.

 

>  

"The Tower," Jinnie spoke again. "Interesting."

"How so?"

"The tower signifies abrupt upheaval. Unplanned, unwanted change. The rules no longer apply. You will lose your footing... and what you do in that moment - that will make or break you. Do you jump off the burning tower hoping someone will catch you? Or stay and burn?"

Isak looked at her, not bothering to hide his irritation. "Useless," he muttered. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Jinnie barely shrugged and raised her eyebrows, standing up and walking away from the table. Angry and frustrated, Isak ran his hand across the table swiftly, knocking all the cards onto the floor. They fell scattered in a lopsided circle, all still facing downwards. As Isak stood up, he noticed a single card twirling in the air before him as it floated slowly, weightlessly, as though in slow motion, to land neatly at his feet. It was facing up but had no caption - just the number thirteen across the top.

"What's that one?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. The image was evocative enough.

 

>  

"Death."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 1: Even**

> _February 12th, 1777 - a forgotten place near the southern border of the Habsburg dominions_

Maria Potrkova was not a superstitious woman. In fact, she privately thought that even religion was a load of hornswoggle. She saw no difference between the hushed blather of dark magics and vampires that had filled the servant quarters for months now and the bombastic weekly preachings delivered by the parish priest, condemning the wicked to Hades. She did not think of herself as particularly wicked, either, but she knew she would be hard pressed to find someone among the townsfolk to vouch for her kindness - with the exception of her maid Yelena, perhaps, whose eyes lit up whenever her mistress requested her company.

Yelena had appeared at Maria's doorstep barely more than a spindly child, her voice shaking as she begged for work. She had lied poorly about having served as a maid for years and appeared too frail to do much real work. Still, Maria had found herself desperate. Most of her help had abandoned her when, barely three months after her late husband's premature passing, she abruptly ended her mourning, and rumors of torrid affairs with young men spread like wildfire across town. So she took the girl in and watched her grow, practically overnight, from a frightened, jejune lass, into a bold young woman who completed her daily chores with precision and urgency. Yelena wasn't shy about enjoying Maria's company, and it didn't take long before the young widow grew quite fond of her as well. In the past three months especially, Maria had often found herself thanking a God she didn't believe in for sending this angel her way.

Even now, as she lay exhausted on her freshly made bed, she felt Yelena's presence beside her. Her eyelids heavy, Maria lifted her gaze and salty droplets of sweat stung her eyes. The girl's coarse, dark hair was pulled back in a long braid, and there were small splotches of dried blood on her simple linen dress. A moment's relief washed over Maria as she realized that _it_ was gone. The unbidden, unwanted _thing_ no longer asserted its presence in her belly.

Then with a sudden jolt, she sat upright.

"It's alright," Yelena assured her with a soft hand on her shoulder. "He’s alright. Petar is washing him."

"He?" the question rasped out of Maria's parched throat as she lay back down.

"Completely healthy," Yelena tucked a curl of honey-colored hair behind her mistress's ear before lowering her voice. "As far as we can tell, he's... just a regular boy."

It wasn't until then that Maria suddenly registered the sound of a crying baby echoing from down the hall. "But he's..." It had only been three months since she had stopped her monthly bleeding. Three months since she had lain with a man. Instinctively, her hand reached toward her neck, where two small scars were all that remained of that encounter.

"I know you've said you don't believe it, madam... but what other way can you reason what happened? I heard my nana talk of these creatures long before the Empress sent her physician to investigate. You speak of wanting proof - what more do you need?"

Maria swallowed hard but did not speak.

"The man you were with," Yelena continued urgently, "was a vampire. Not all folk tales are make belief!" She lowered her eyes to her hands. "It happened not a fortnight after Eva was killed."

"Then why am I still here?" Maria asked, her heart beating faster as the child's cries grew louder.

"In nana's tales they weren't all... They're most unnatural but not always _evil_." She furrowed her brow and shook her head slightly. "They need blood to live but the real reason they come back is... to...  you know... with a woman they did covet in life." She glanced nervously at Maria and cleared her throat. "But she never said... I never heard of a baby. Never."

Yelena rose as Petar walked into the room, carrying a screaming bundle of white cloth. She stepped aside as he approached the bed, setting the bundle gently into Maria's arms.

With a small cough, the cries subsided, and the swaddled infant’s crystalline blue eyes crinkled at the sight of her face. He was ugly the way all newborns are ugly. Too small and gawky, with yellowish wrinkled skin, and tiny hands with tinier fingers that wrapped themselves instantly around Maria's thumb. She had been a prisoner in her own home for the past three months in an attempt to conceal the abomination borne of her tryst with a stranger. She hated it before she ever knew it, hated herself for being its host, never once considering that it could be a person, a child, her son. Even.

 

 

* * *

 

**Part 2: Goodbye**

With a heavy heart she said goodbye to her only son and her only friend just a few weeks later. Yelena's rosy cheeks were frozen with tears as Maria kissed her forehead and Petar gently steered her towards the carriage. The ground was still hidden beneath a layer of white that glittered softly in the flicker of Maria's candles, but the snow had stopped falling, and the howling wind had subsided. This was their best chance to quietly leave town, shrouded in the safety of the night.

With the vampire hysteria still wracking the entire region, Even could never be safe here. And if anyone knew enough about his dark origins to properly care for him, it was Yelena. Maria had given her as much gold as she could spare and pretended not to register the relief that washed over her when she was finally free of the vampire child. Though the frigid air nipped at her cheeks and nose, she remained at her open door until the carriage disappeared into the darkness, and she could no longer discern the muffled rhythm of hooves hitting fresh snow.  

 

 

* * *

 

 **Part 3:** **If she loved him, she wouldn't let him**

> _Present day - Merak_

There was an old mill at the top of a hill on the very edge of Merak, just outside the unceasing frenzy of the city. It had been abandoned for decades, seemingly forgotten, its stone walls overgrown with moss and weeds, home only to the occasional critter seeking shelter from the storm. Though he needed the anonymity of the city, this was where Even felt most at peace. Where he came to think. To feel. It had been his sanctuary throughout his years in Merak.

He took a deep drag of a cigarette and watched as the blue smoke he exhaled dispersed in swirls in front of him. The forest around him was abuzz in a chorus of sounds, as insects and animals alike re-emerged from their hiding spots after the rain. Even was sitting atop what would have been a window sill, had a portion of the wall above it not crumbled years ago, leaving a gaping hole where a ceiling used to be. He had made the mistake of bringing Isak here once. He should have known right then that he was getting too close. He should have disappeared the moment it even occurred to him to bring Isak here. Now, instead of peace, all he felt was a profound ache that seemed to come from his very soul - except he was pretty sure he didn't even have one. He admonished himself for indulging in this abject self-pity. What good did it do? He had to stay away from Isak. Plain and simple.

As if on cue, he heard rustling leaves and turned to see none other than Isak step out from behind the adjacent wall. For a moment Even wondered if he was dreaming. Isak’s face glistened with sweat and his breathing was fast and shallow. He had clearly walked here - and it was quite a hike. His disheveled hair stuck out every which way, and a few golden locks stuck to his forehead awkwardly.

"Hi," Isak said, catching his breath. He ran his fingers through his soaked hair, pulling it all back before hiding it under a red snapback he had carried in his hand.

"Hello," Even said breathlessly and forced himself to stop smiling. It was as though, with Isak's appearance, his whole body had also awakened, every particle buzzing and singing, emerging back to life after the rain. He looked around awkwardly. "How did you know I was here?"

Isak shrugged.

Even pushed the tip of his cigarette against the stone wall, snuffing it out.

"Why are you here?" he glanced back over at Isak, who chuckled nervously and looked down at the ground, as though unable to face Even's gaze.

"I uh... I wanted to," Isak started. "Uhm... what's a dhampir?" he finally blurted out.

Even stood up and walked a few steps away from Isak. "How do you know?" he asked, with his back still turned.

"I went to the magic shop," Isak answered matter-of-factly, and Even whipped around. He could feel the blood draining from his face.  

"You didn't talk to one of the Jinn, did you?"

Isak squinted at him in confusion, and Even took a deep breath. “ _Did you?_ ”

 _They could have told Isak anything. They could have tricked him into doing anything._ Most of the time Even loved how clueless Isak was about the different realms that intertwined in this region, but this was dangerous.

"You can't trust them," Even said. "Who did you talk to? Do you know?"

"Agh," Isak shrugged, "I dunno, she said her name was Jinnie."

_Fuck. That could be any of them._

"What did they tell you to do?"

"Nothing," Isak scoffed a little. "Completely useless."

"Then why are you here?"

Nothing visibly changed on Isak's face, but Even clearly saw the hurt his words had immediately caused. He resisted the urge to apologize, to comfort him. It was best for Isak to stay away from Even.

"I'm going home," Isak said with the slightest shake in his voice. "Tomorrow. Or... tonight, I guess, since it's almost dawn."

Even didn't respond.

"What do you think about that?" Isak insisted.

"That's uh... great. It's what you wanted, right?"

Isak nodded.

"I could stay," he added softly, looking firmly at the ground. "But uhh..." he continued without waiting for a response, "I don't know what happened the other night. I- I'm sorry if I misunderstood." He took a deep breath and let out an exasperated chuckle, "I know we never really talked about... these things, but my home... well, my sentence on earth ended when I experienced true love. I uh... I get to go home because I'm in love." Another nervous laugh, still staring fixedly at his feet.  "And I don't want to go home... because I'm in love, you know?" One corner of his mouth twitched upwards in an attempt at a smile.

When he finally looked back up, Even could no longer hold back. He crossed the distance between them in an instant. Isak's eyes had such depth in them. Their color changed from green to blue, and sometimes even brown. But there was always so much more behind them than anyone he'd ever encountered. He ran his fingers slowly through Isak's hair, carelessly pushing off the silly cap, and pulled him closer so that their foreheads were touching. He let his thumb graze Isak's bottom lip, and felt his mouth part easily under Even's touch.

When their lips met again, Even was once again overwhelmed with that same familiar feeling that had made him pull back the last time - the exhilaration that he had only felt once before and only remembered in nightmares. His thirst for Isak was like his thirst for blood, and it terrified him. He allowed himself a moment before pulling back abruptly.

"That was goodbye," he said firmly. "Go home." He left before Isak even had time to register the words.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going well out of my comfort zone with this story, so I'd really love to know your reactions. I'm open to (gentle) critique as well. Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: there is a brief allusion to potential rape in this chapter

Isak had never understood why ceilings were painted differently than walls in the human realm. Whereas walls were always smooth and flat, the ceilings invariably had texture, small crests and valleys crisscrossing along white planes. He was lying on top of his freshly made bed, hands resting on his chest, studying the ceiling with ascetic concentration. His small studio apartment was spotlessly clean, except for the circular clock that looked as though it had been roughly torn off the wall and dismembered, its life-force, the batteries, thrown in the trash to quiet the relentless ticking of its thin, plastic hands.

The room around him grew dimmer as the sun began to set, and it became ever harder to ignore the nervous rumbling in his stomach, the agonizingly dull throbbing in his chest, where his heart felt as though it had been gouged out, and the memory of Even's smiling face. Isak tried to recall the stony expression Even had left him with instead. It would have made it easier to hate or even just let him go. But, instead, as darkness enveloped the room around him, the vision of Even's toothy grin, the sparkle in his crinkled eyes, and that one lock of hair always bouncing on his forehead grew ever clearer. Would it haunt him forever?

A soft light the color of mallow slowly spread around him, and he knew that the time had come. He stood up slowly and faced the portal that had formed by his window, where colors and objects seemed to tremble and buzz with energy.

"Gamó ton Zeus Stymphalist!" Aphrodite's usually beautiful voice rang out shrilly as she fell awkwardly out of the portal, landing ungracefully on the hard floor. She adjusted her dark locks as she stood up, and tugged the hem of her silky white dress down to her knees. Though momentarily flustered, the golden glow of her brown skin and the sharp features surrounding her gleaming, round eyes retained the delicate allure that marked her undeniably as the Goddess of beauty.

She was followed immediately by Hera, whose composed entrance was much less entertaining.

"Watch how you speak of my husband, Aphrodite," she spoke sternly, her porcelain white skin almost glowing in the semi-darkness.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes almost imperceptibly.

"Hello, Eros," Hera said in a kinder tone. "Are you ready to come home?"

Isak frowned momentarily before responding. "Yes," he spoke with faked confidence, "but I expected one of the lesser beings to come for me. What is going on that brings you both here?"

"We've had a small disagreement about your sentence," Aphrodite said, looking away from Isak, who glanced at Hera for further explanation.

"It is too cruel of a punishment to allow your continued suffering once you return," she spoke. "I've come to take away the memories that have caused you pain, so that your punishment will, in fact, be over."

"But that will completely negate the entire point!" Aphrodite still sounded indignant.

With a sigh that did nothing to hide her annoyance, Hera continued: "So we are here to give you a choice. You will have your powers back either way, but you get to decide whether you want to retain the memories of your broken heart as you cross over or if you'd rather be free of the burden of love. Though you will maintain the knowledge that you once felt it."

The decision seemed simple, and it was clear to Isak that both Hera and Aphrodite knew that opting not to suffer was the only logical choice. The question was merely a display of Hera's power to override Aphrodite's punishment, disguised as concern for poor Eros. Isak wasn't even sure that he really had a say.

But he knew what neither of them had quite grasped - ultimately the choice wasn't between suffering and freedom, wisdom and oblivion. No, he had to choose between Isak and Eros, between the mere memory of love, of true joy and its accompanying torment- of Even - and the eternal void that would otherwise remain in his place.

He glanced at Aphrodite, who stood with her arms crossed next to the portal, a small pout denoting her frustration, and then at Hera, who warmly motioned toward the portal with her bony arm.

"Have you made your choice?" she asked.

"I have."

 

 

* * *

 

 

A week had passed since Even returned to his loft after leaving Isak by the old mill. He had not ventured outside since. In fact, he had barely moved from the spot on the floor, where he sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, cocooned in a thick woolen blanket, resting his head against the cold window pane. His stomach growled with hunger, but the sound was quickly overpowered by the rumbling of thunder. The sun seemed to have left with Isak, and nothing but thick gray clouds remained in its place.

Even almost felt sorry for the people of Merak, but guilt had become such a constant fixture of his emotional landscape that it made no real difference. Rain had seemed to follow him wherever he went for the past century, interspersed with brief periods of clear skies here and there, most of them occurring within the past two months.

Bram Stoker's version of the vampire mythos claimed that they could control the weather. Control is not the word Even would have used. He had spent years reading every manuscript, every letter, and every dissertation that contained information about supernatural creatures. It hadn't taken long to realize that it was impossible to tell truth from fiction. In fact, sometimes the fictional stories seemed to hit closer to reality.

He had begun his quest for answers shortly after his parents had died. After the... After he had found out what would happen if he ever stopped taking his serum. Every piece of information he gathered seemed more distressing than the last, beginning with the realization that his parents had not actually been his parents. Not only were they not his biological ancestors - he had never even known their real names. His personal history began and ended with them. He had gathered bits and pieces of what he was over time, mostly through word of mouth. He discovered the hidden underbelly of the enlightened world, where unnatural beings roamed unseen.

He was the offspring of a human and a vampire - that much he knew. He tried not to allow himself to think too much about it, but the vacuum left by Isak's sudden absence seemed to dredge up all his darkest thoughts, and they swirled around like vultures in his tired mind. He had met a few vampires in his journeys. They were unpleasant creatures, oozing a primal, sexual energy. They usually lived in solitude and were feared and distrusted by even the low-lives of the underworld. Since a female vampire couldn't bear a child, he knew that his mother must have been human. Which meant that his father could still be alive or... around, anyway. Had she consented to their unholy union? Or was she ravaged against her will, left to carry the seed of evil in her mutilated body? Was that why she had given him away?

Even closed his eyes, letting the tears roll down his cheeks. It had only been a week, and he missed Isak more than he knew could be possible. He tried to find solace in Isak's parting words, but instead they stung like knives. And this was precisely why he had had to let him go. If Isak knew even half of who Even was, _what_ he was, how he came to be, and what he had done... If Isak experienced the tiniest fraction of the demonic urges that lived inside him... Even couldn't imagine anything worse. The emptiness he felt now, the internal torment, the physical ache in his chest that cried out for a mere glimpse of Isak's face, this was nothing compared to what would have happened had Isak stayed.

Even traced a jagged outline across the frosted window pane, remembering the sharp dip that formed the Cupid's bow of Isak's top lip, the soft curves that surrounded his mouth when he smiled, the tingle that ran down Even's spine when Isak buried his fingers in the hair on the nape of his neck as they had kissed.

He took a deep breath. He had to regain his composure, even just for a few hours, just long enough to gather the materials for a new batch of his serum. He had already delayed it too long. He walked over to the sink and splashed cold water on his face, thankful that he had chosen not to keep a mirror there.

With a loud clunk, the elevator that led to his loft suddenly began to descend, and Even turned around in a panic - no one had access to its key but Even.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! This was a lot of fun to write. I could probably expand it into a whole book, tbh...

> _The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor._  
>  \- Albert Camus, "The Myth of Sisyphus"

  
Being human used to be, above all, boring.

The casual monotony of daily life, the constant repetition of pointless rituals, the rehearsed interactions void of meaning - all seemingly impossible to escape among mortals. Isak, once again, started falling prey to the routine: wake up, urinate, brush teeth, drink coffee, eat, work, sleep, wake up. He used to think that the core of the mortal world was scaffolded on the frustrated yet unceasing quest for some semblance of meaning.

That was before Even.

He almost missed the feeling of monotony, the numbness with which he used to perform his daily tasks, mind fixed unwaveringly on his one and only goal of returning home. The only thing that remained the same was the singularity of his focus, though its object had shifted drastically. He wasn't entirely sure he had made the right choice turning down the offer of going home - but his whole being had revolted at the idea. _It's not home anymore_ , his heart had whispered, and Isak knew it to be true.

The fact was that in the span of a couple of months, he had _felt_ so much more - and more intensely - than he had felt in the entirety of his existence as Eros. Right now, the feeling was that of something having broken and died inside him, decaying slowly and infecting every part of him with its rotting stench. And yet, it was more meaningful than a thousand year's worth of love pranks and purposeful mismatches, of power plays and sensual pleasures, of all the grandeur that came with being a god. Being human was, above all, agonizing.

Maybe he was a masochist. His heart ached for Even every minute of every day, and still he was glad he had decided to stay. Even had been clear about not feeling the same, however, so Isak respected his boundaries. He resisted the urge to take detours on his walks home and pass by the loft every day that week. He resisted calling and texting as well, though he hadn't mustered the willpower to delete Even's number from his cell phone. He hadn't, however, been able to resist spilling his guts to his coworker, who was starting to seem like a friend.

"It's only been a week," Jess told him over a drink, though he hadn't said anything out loud. "It gets better with time," she assured him.

Isak nodded. Perhaps he shouldn't have told her anything at all. However matter-of-factly he had attempted to explain the situation, taking care to leave out certain details, he saw her eyes soften and brows contract in that condescending expression of sympathy the moment he told her that whatever was going on between him and Even - and he wasn't sure it had been anything in the first place - was over. She had insisted they get a drink after work and talk, and somehow it didn't sound like a terrible idea at the time. Isak supposed _that_ by itself was a dead giveaway that he was heartbroken.

"Why didn't you go home, though?" she asked tentatively. "I mean, not that you should, it's just that... If it's as far away as you say, well, it's a lot easier to get over someone when there's distance between you."

Isak shrugged. "It's not the same anymore," he said. "Or... _it_ is, but-" he struggled to explain, "I'm not. I'd rather go someplace new if I have to go, you know? If I have to be away from him." He paused and took a last swig of his beer. "Going home is like, taking it all back. Or erasing it or something. Does that make sense?"

Jess nodded but he didn't think she understood. How could she? He wasn't even sure _he_ understood. He wasn't sure if he _wanted_ to get over Even. The pain still felt like a connection to him, a closeness. Better than nothing.

"Are you still hoping he'll come around?" she asked, and Isak dropped his gaze to his hands without answering.

"You know, I don't think it's unreasonable. From everything you've told me, it sounds like he cares about you. You've seen him like every weekend for months - people don't hang out that much with people they don't care about." She paused, pressing her lips together before continuing. "And if it's the Even I know, well, then it makes sense that he would just want to protect you by pushing you away. Which means he must care about your safety, at least."

It took Isak a moment to register her words, and he almost knocked over his empty pint glass.   
"Wait what? What do you mean- _you know Even?_ " He narrowed his eyes as though that would help him read her face. "A-and protect me from what exactly?"

"He's the vampire hybrid, right?" she asked nonchalantly and smiled, clearly amused by Isak's stunned reaction. "Oh come on, you know there are as many of us as there are mortals in this town." She shrugged, as though stating the obvious, "it's where all the realms intersect."

Isak stared at her open-mouthed.

"You do know there are others, don't you?" she asked. "Who do you think cleaned up his mess when he stole all that shit from the lab? Did you think they just replaced the door over the weekend, no big deal?"

"You- You knew each other all this time?"

"Well... not... exactly," Jess looked away and twirled a loose lock of her hair between her fingers. "He's just not... he doesn't exactly keep a low profile, you know? And anyone with half a brain knows to keep track of any vampires in the vicinity. It's a matter of public safety! I kinda figured he was a hybrid since he's not... you know... _fucking terrifying_."

"So what are you?" Isak whispered after a brief pause.

Jess mouthed a few attempts at words before finally explaining with a sigh. "I'm human," it came out like a shameful confession. "I just... dabble in witchcraft." She glanced at Isak, looking for his approval. "I do okay," she said. "Some basic spells, but I mostly just watch for supernatural activity, report major incidents to the authorities... cover tracks here and there."

"Am I the least observant person in the universe or what?" Isak asked, and Jess smiled warmly.

"Nah, you're just in love," she said. "And, between you and me? I'm pretty sure he is too."

 

"Uh... Jess?" Isak asked hoarsely as they were leaving the bar and before they stepped out into the torrential downpour that had besieged the city for days.

"Hm?" Jess was visibly tipsy and tripped slightly walking up the steps that led outside.

"Do you know anything about Tarot? I mean, that's kinda like witchcraft, right?"

"Mmmm kinda, yeah," she said, putting on her raincoat. "Readings have never been my forte, but I'm familiar enough. What's up?"

"Do you know what card 13 means?" Isak stopped before reaching for the handle of the heavy door. "Y'know... Death?"

"Well," Jess furrowed her brows for a moment, "I know it doesn't actually mean death!" she grinned as though she had said something brilliant.

Disappointed with the lack of an answer, Isak opened the door and faced the roaring storm outside. In spite of the howling wind and lashing rain, Jess paused at the exit.

"Death is the ending of something, but it's also the beginning of something new," she spoke loudly over the storm. "When one door closes another one opens and all that jazz," she laughed before turning away. "You'll be okay, Isak. See you Monday!"

Isak put up the hood of his jacket and hurried home, splashing through puddles on deserted streets. There was a strange beauty in the city's grimy darkness. The meeting place of lost souls: Jess, Jinny, Even, and Isak - each of them stuck between worlds, torn between conflicting desires, looking for comfort in Merak's empty streets, forever alone in their despair.

He walked up the steps to his small apartment, looking forward to changing into dry clothes after a long day. He stopped abruptly when he reached the landing. Even was sitting on the floor outside his door, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. 

 

* * *

> _I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! One always finds one's burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy._  
>  \- Albert Camus

 

Even woke up with a jolt just as Isak stepped onto the landing. He cringed as he realized he had fallen asleep while waiting for him, but tried not to show it as he stood up.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," Isak replied.

For a moment, they just stood there, each overwhelmed at the unexpected sight of the other. Isak broke the silence.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was gonna ask you the same question," Even replied.

"I live here," Isak said with a scoff, though his heart was pounding in his chest with such vehemence that he felt lightheaded. He unlocked his front door and entered, leaving the door open. Even remained outside, looking at him with those stupid puppy dog eyes of his that, in spite of everything, made Isak's throat burn with desire.

"Do I have to invite you in or something?" he asked pointedly.

Even walked in without a word. Isak knew full well that he'd been at the apartment before. The invitation comment was clearly meant to sting. He leaned against the marble counter top and took a deep breath before speaking.

"I uh... Thank you for the package," he said, "but I don't need you to take care of me. I can get the serum supplies on my own."

Isak narrowed his eyes. _What package?_

"I don't know why you haven't left town," Even continued, "but I meant what I said. You should- you _have to_ stay away from me."

Isak raised an eyebrow and laughed in spite of himself: "You came to my apartment to tell me to stay away from you?"

"Wh- uh, yeah," Even said. "I... You're the one who's leaving little gift bags at my doorstep!"

"What?"

"The package," Even was starting to get frustrated. There was no one else who could have left the supplies and snuck them into his locked elevator. No one who would have known when he'd run out, or what exactly he needed, or how to get them. It had to have been Isak. "With the serum ingredients and hawthorn and shit?"

Isak shrugged, shaking his head lightly. "Wasn't me."

Another silence followed as Even tried to parse things out. He had no reason to think that Isak was lying, but it just didn't make sense.

Though Isak had been pining and aching and wishing to see Even every day since they parted, he now felt anger bubbling up inside him. "You couldn't text instead?" he asked, and his suspicions were confirmed when Even just looked down at the floor in response. It must have been so easy for Even to let go, to just delete all traces of Isak from his life. And his phone.  
  
"Well," Isak cleared his throat and took off his dripping jacket, "if that's all you wanted to say, I'd really like to change out of these wet clothes, so..." he glanced at the still-open door. He really needed Even to leave before the tears he felt coming on made it to his eyes.

"I thought you were going home," Even said. "What happened?"

Isak shrugged, "I decided not to."

" _Fuck_ ," Even whispered under his breath. "You're not safe here."

"I don't need you to protect me," Isak pursed his lips defiantly.

"No, that's not... that's not what I mean," Even said. He was annoyed with himself for not being angrier, for not being able to withhold the truth any longer. For that small but overwhelming part of him that didn't want Isak to leave, the part that made his voice crack when he spoke again. "Didn't you _want_ to go home?"

Isak shrugged again. "I guess not anymore," he said.

Maybe Jess was right, he thought. Even wouldn't be this upset and go so far out of his way to tell Isak to leave if he didn't care. At least in some way. In any case, he had nothing left to lose. So he braced himself, straightening his back and looking firmly at Even. "I don't want to... It's just, I don't want to live in a world that, that," _just say it_ "that doesn't have you in it."

For a moment, Even's face softened, his eyes wide and lips parted. He inhaled sharply and Isak could hear his breath catch in his throat. But then his jaw clenched in frustration before he spoke.

"Do you think this is romantic?" Even asked in a low tone of voice. "Do you? Do you know what I did to the last person I loved?"

Isak's eyes lit up for a moment, and Even continued, speaking slowly and enunciating every syllable: "I ripped her throat out and sucked her dry."

The dazed, sparkling look did not leave Isak's eyes, so Even kept going, speaking the words he had never dared say out loud - not even to himself. "And I _loved_ every moment of it. It was fucking exhilarating feeling the life drain out of her. It was the best feeling I've ever experienced."

"So you love me?" Isak asked softly.

"That's not the point!" Even had always thought he was the romantic idealist, not Isak. But nothing about this conversation was going according to plan.

"Isn't the serum supposed to prevent you hurting anyone anyway?" Isak pressed.

"Yea- yes, in theory," Even said truthfully. "I just... I'm not willing to test it on you! Isak, when we... that evening on the rooftop, I wasn't prepared, I- I completely lost control. I wanted you too much. I wanted you so much that I didn't care if I hurt you."

"But you didn't hurt me," Isak insisted. "Well, not physically anyway, hah... You pretty much disemboweled me emotionally," he paused for a moment, shaken at his own brazenness, at his willingness to allow Even to see him this vulnerable. "And besides, you _can't_ hurt me physically. At least not anymore."

Even scrunched his eyebrows, looking over at Isak in confusion.

"I didn't go home," Isak explained, "but I did get my powers back."

"Powers?"

"I'm a... uhh, I'm a god," Isak scratched the tip of his nose as he always did when he felt awkward. "And um... I was Eros before I was Isak. Probably better known as Cupid here, I think."

"God?"

"Mhmm."

They stood awkwardly across from each other for a little while exchanging glances, before Even exhaled with apparent relief, and the corner of Isak's lips twitched upward.

"You're sure I can't hurt you?" Even asked one more time, his voice shaking audibly.

"Shut up," Isak replied, stepping forward and pressing his lips to Even's.

Even lifted his fingers to softly graze Isak's cheek, running his thumb along the edge of his mouth as they parted. They stood like that for a moment, foreheads pressed together, lips inches apart, both basking in the presence of the other. Isak was unable to tear his eyes away from Even's lips, which gradually stretched into a wide grin, exposing his pointy incisors.

"So you do love me?" Isak breathed out.

"More than you know," Even whispered as he kissed his face gently, dragging his lips along Isak's jawline to his neck.  
  
"Prove it," Isak demanded with eyes closed, and Even obeyed, kissing him passionately and guiding him gently toward the bedroom.

* * *

 

As the god of love, Eros had had ample opportunity to explore the carnal pleasures of the flesh. He had played a vital part in countless festivities in honor of his friend Dionysus. When one has been around for as long as they had and enjoyed the power of the gods, pleasure was easy to come by, and every perverse desire's fulfillment only left them searching for more. Still, Isak's skin prickled at every soft graze of Even's lips along his chest and abdomen, every tiny circle traced by the tip of Even's tongue down the soft fuzz of his happy trail, and he found himself overwhelmed with unfamiliar emotion, as though his heart would burst from joy if only it wasn't held together by his ribs. His moans turned into whimpers when the warmth of Even's mouth moved even lower, and he buried his fingers in the silky locks of Even's hair.

Even could hardly contain his desire as Isak's body responded readily at his touch. The unrestrained murmurs escaping Isak's throat could have been enough to push him over the edge, had he not wanted so desperately to convey his feelings, to make sure Isak understood, to be certain he had experienced and viscerally knew exactly how Even felt about him. But when Isak grabbed him by the hair, pulling him back up into a deep kiss, it was Even who could no longer control the gutteral sounds that rose deep from his belly. Isak tongue entered his mouth with such forceful tenderness that Even knew he no longer belonged to himself. He was Isak's and Isak's alone, from the very depth of his soul to every humming particle of his burning skin.

Time ceased to exist as they explored each other's bodies, drowned in each other's scents, lost themselves in their union. When they finally lay spent, bodies still intertwined and chests heaving with every recovering breath, on top of the sweat-soaked sheets, words finally managed to form on their lips.

"Fucking hell," Isak breathed and then laughed.

Even lay on his back, with Isak's arm and leg draped across him, their noses touching. "I can't even make words, that was..." Isak gently brushed a lock of hair out of his face and traced the shape of his eyebrow. Even closed his eyes at the sensation and mumbled a hushed, "my god," before nudging Isak's nose with his own.

Isak let out a small giggle before responding, "I am, you know."

Outside, the storm had quieted, and the wind ceased its unrelenting pressure on the trees that lined the streets. The quiet darkness slowly made room for a gentle flurry of weightless snowflakes that twirled and danced in the crisp air until they covered the city in a soft blanket of pure white snow. 

 

 

 


End file.
